A New Year’s Edit

Image by Mikaela Rae via Unsplash

If you’ve followed me for any length of time, you know I’m not one for New Year’s resolutions. I’ve never been able to stick to them, and I’m hard on myself when I break a promise - even if the promise is all mine. Moreover, when I look outside my window at the moment, I see a landscape at rest. Bare branches draped in snow like satin gloves. Empty nests cradled in skeletal boughs. Snow falling at dusk until the drifts rise like waves, its slick expanse as wind-raked as any sea’s surface.

I always wonder why we put any pressure on ourselves to transform in January, while the natural world continues to bide its time.

I guess you could call me a New Year’s skeptic. Mark Twain famously described the beginning of the year with pessimism: “New Year’s Day: Now is the accepted time to make your regular annual good resolutions. Next week you can begin paving hell with them as usual.” He makes me laugh with this one every year. Twain’s words have always felt prescient to me - like I’ve set myself up to fail with my list, but at least I’m making these faulty promises in good company.

More recently however, my cold heart has warmed on this front. As friends have shared their dreams for the new year - not only the experiences they’re planning or the things they’ll do but also the time they want to claim for themselves - I’ve come away from these revealing conversations feeling deeply moved. Increasingly, I believe the sparkling, special aspect of making resolutions isn’t the new year at all.

It’s us.

January does provide rare quiet in a loud world. Perhaps this silent stretch offers the perfect backdrop to daydream, to make plans, to reignite the belief that change is possible. Apart from this lack of background noise, I also believe community inspires action. This time of year might be more impactful because we’re making changes in lockstep with others. The calendar might nudge us to take stock of our lives, but it’s our loved ones who note how far we’ve come and who hold us accountable. They see the moments we step out of our comfort zones, and they encourage us to live our dreams each time they recommit to their own.

I think I’ve gone about resolutions all wrong. I’ve written lists and stuck them into drawers, only to roll my eyes in July when I stumble upon my best intentions again. Inevitably, I come to find I’ve fallen short in a sort of self-fulfilling prophesy. I’ve put too much pressure on myself in the past, but I’ve also tried to do too much alone. And I don’t think I’m alone in that.

According to a study by the Harris Poll, a whopping 49% of people who set New Year’s resolutions give them up by February. At this point, kicking our resolutions to the curb is as much a tradition as making the onerous lists themselves.

I’m trying something new this year. Instead of starting from scratch, I’m editing the life I already have. Most days, I’ll aim to meet three core values: connection, movement, and creative action. I realized the days where I’ve hit all three metrics have been heavenly to me. These are my ideas, and yours will look totally different. I discovered these values when I considered some recent “perfect” days, identified a pattern among them, and then tried to reverse engineer them by their attributes.

As a person with a large family, connection would seemingly come easily to me. But I’ve often missed opportunities to connect in the heady, logistical dance required to make our life happen. I’ve had days where I chauffeur kids from school to activities without one meaningful conversation - and that’s on me. I realize I savor my relationships most when I take the time to connect with intention. On my end, meeting this intention means putting my phone (or, yes, even my book!) aside, asking thoughtful questions, and trying to be as present as possible with the people I love most.

I’m also most content on the days when I incorporate movement. Maybe you are as well? I’m a forever fan of yoga, Pilates, and hikes on the trails near my home. Yet movement can also mean dancing with my kiddos in the kitchen or taking them sledding. (I’m also going to count wrestling the littles ones into their snow gear because I’m always perspiring by the end of that feat.) Plato, a philosopher recognized for the stunning power of his mind, noted that “lack of activity destroys the good condition of every human being.” Plato recognized that our bodies matter as much as our brains. What’s more: they’re entwined. Even after a simple walk, I find I think more clearly.

Finally, creative action has my heart for the obvious pleasure and magic and flow of expression. But I also value the energy it requires of me; without fail, creative work demands everything I have to give. It taps my whimsy, my work ethic, my curiosity, my beliefs, and the grit to keep showing up for the journey. I feel most like myself in that space. I also find more hope in the world when I view its bounty through the lens of creating, of giving and receiving. I can’t commit to a punishing regime, but I can recommit to this.

At base, our resolutions should inspire us to become the best versions of ourselves. Annie Dillard nails it: how we spend our days is how we spend our lives. Our best days remind us that we’re not beginning a new year with a blank page. We already know how we want our lives to look. Who knows? A little editing could lead to big changes in the new year.

Or, at the very least, a better day.

I wish you all the best for a beautiful new beginning! If you have a minute, I’d love to hear more about your ideal day in 2026. Feel free to reach out at any time.